


Chase

by Ellxox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fancy galas, One Shot, Post-Hogwarts, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 01:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19346779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellxox/pseuds/Ellxox
Summary: Little oneshot- With so many social events to attend, Hermione has to find some way to have some fun. Teasing Draco is just an added bonus.





	Chase

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty nervous to post this, because it's my very first piece of work that I've posted. Writing is just a simple hobby of mine, that i do in my spare time - so please do excuse any mistakes. 
> 
> Please do show this some love, if you enjoyed it at all. Or even if you just read it lol. 
> 
> I'm also active over on my tumblr; ellxox
> 
> Enjoy :) xo

It was odd that she’d started off hating these galas.

When the war had ended, Hermione found she was rather widely – known. Or famous, as the tabloids liked to say. Muggleborn. One third of the Golden Trio. Harry Potter’s best friend. War heroine. Cleverest witch of her age. Just a bunch of fancy titles really, that she wasn’t particularly fond of.

Along with this newfound high status came social events. Fundraisers. Galas and parties. Business dinners. You name it, Hermione had been invited, and expected to be in attendance. Otherwise there would be backlash in the media, a fake story about ‘how she thought she was too important to show up’, or there had been an ‘argument between friends’. Or some other load of rubbish.

The thing was, once you’d attended one, you’d basically been to them all. It was just a chance for everyone to get dressed up, in their most expensive outfit, and then show off to the people around them. With a bit of food and drink, mixed in. There was a part of Hermione that enjoyed these social events. Picking something to wear, having an excuse to pamper herself, by getting her hair and her nails redone. A time to catch up with old friends, and colleagues, drink a little too much champagne, and just thoroughly relax surrounded by a good atmosphere.

The issue usually arose halfway through the night. As soon as Hermione stepped foot in the room, people were basically queuing up to speak with her. So with a glass of bubbly in her hand, Hermione endured the small talk. Talk of her family and friends. What she’d been up too both in her job and her life outside of work. Her opinions in this and that. What she made of the newspaper headlines for that week. It wasn’t even that she minded talking to these people, because she didn’t, in fact Hermione loved it. Talking and sharing her thoughts, was something she was good at, something she strived to do.

But, after a while, the conversations started to blur into one. The same questions but with different faces asking them. And of course, with the same questions, came the same answers. Over and over again.

This year, however, there was another reason Hermione was looking forward to the gala. And she intended to play on it.

Standing in front of the bar, drink in hand, Hermione stood chatting with Ginny. The redhead was talking about the fact that she was trying to limit her alcohol intake, so that she was in her best shape, ready for her next season on the Quidditch pitch. Hermione nodded, absentmindedly, looking over her best friends’ shoulder to see a couple of men walk in.

Three of them in total, dressed impeccably from their combed hair, to their shiny dress shoes. But one of them specially, caught Hermione’s eye. Draco Malfoy surveyed the room, glancing over the tops of everyone’s heads, until they landed on her and Ginny. He said something to the other two men, and then the trio started to walk toward the bar. As the men got closer, Hermione could now tell that Draco’s suit was actually a deep blue, instead of the standard black. The colour of the suit made his hair look all the more blonde, and she knew it would also make his eyes, look all the more grey.

Blaise approached first, kissing both women on the cheeks, and then turning to order a whiskey from the barman. Theo, next, kissed Ginny on both her cheeks and then moved to give Hermione a quick hug and kiss.

“Don’t you ladies look exquisite,” Theo said, smirking and accepting the glass, Blaise offered him.

“Ever the flattery, Nott,” Ginny quipped back. “Draco, lovely to see you again.” She flashed the blonde, a beaming smile.

“You saw me last night Red, but yes lovely to see you again, I guess,” Draco chuckled, pressing a small kiss onto Ginny’s left cheek. He turned to look at Hermione, snaking an arm around her waist, and pulling her in toward him. “Wife, as stunning as always.”

Hermione leaned up to give him a peck on the lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick and leave a mark on Draco’s lips. “Husband, praise worthy as ever,” she said, pressing her lips together, to smooth out the lipstick.

“You two are so in love, it makes my stomach turn,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes, and laughing at the same time.

Draco looked down at Hermione, who even though she was in heels, was still slightly smaller than him. His grey eyes were twinkling, full of mischief. “Don’t act like you and Harry aren’t like this,” he chided, looking over at her, one eyebrow raised.

“Perhaps,” Ginny grinned.

Hermione felt Draco’s eyes burning into the side of her face. Their eyes met, as she glanced at him. He had a smirk playing around his mouth, and the grey eyes that had been so light and twinkly, were now slightly darker and more hooded. Hermione could feel the warmth of his hand, resting comfortably on her lower back, and starting to draw gentle circles. His gaze dipped to the front of her floor length, blood red gown. The dress rested off the shoulders, with a deep cut v bodice, to show slightly more of her chest than usual. It wasn’t the sort of gown Hermione typically wore, but as soon as she’d spotted in the shop, she’d known that was the one for the gala.  

This was the main reason Hermione looked forward to the social events. The outfit she put together was a way of teasing Draco. Knowing that his eyes would be following her, for most of the evening, and he couldn’t do much to act on his feelings, it made her skin tingle with anticipation. She wanted him, as much as he wanted her, but for tonight she could keep her own desires to herself and play the game.

It was quite clear that Draco was in love with his wife. No matter what time of day, where they were, or what Hermione looked like, Draco stilled looked at her like she’d hung the moon. But there was something exciting and intoxicating, knowing that they were in public and Draco couldn’t touch her. He could convey how much he wanted her, through simple touches and expressions, but he had to wait until they went home to do anything about it.

Toward the end of the evening, Hermione could tell that Draco was starting to get antsy. His hand on her lower back had begun drifting south, giving her bottom a quick pat, and then going back to its original position, as if nothing had happened. Hermione had to force her face not to flame red. Want coursed through her veins. She only had to stay at the gala a little while longer, and then she could go home with her husband. She’d started this game of chase and she was intent on finishing it, and winning at the end.

The song on the dance floor changed to a more slow, sultry beat and Draco offered his hand to his wife.

“Dance with me,” he suggested.

She took his outstretched hand, and was pulled into a close embrace as Draco placed one hand on her bare shoulder, and his other hand on her waist.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured quietly, eyes searching her face for her answer. When she smiled coyly at him, he leaned in even impossibly closer, his lips touching her outer ear. The proximity and his touch, made a shiver run through her.

“Come on, Hermione. I know the game you’re playing. I can’t stand here much longer watching you, in this goddamn dress. Watching the way people look at you when you’re talking, and swaying your arse when you walk, like you’re not purposefully teasing me. You win. I know you want me, let me take my wife home and ravish her silly.” As he whispered to her, his hand moved from her shoulder, to gently stroke along the side of her neck. He placed a kiss to her weak spot behind her ear, before he pulled back slightly to read her face.

Hermione rose up on her toes to press her lips to his, once more. A promise of what was to come, as soon as they got through their front door.

“Let’s leave then,” she said grinning up at him. “I’m finding myself quite bored of this gala anyways.”

His smirk back to her was nothing short of smugness. A look of someone who'd won the chase.


End file.
